


The Dwight Timing

by missingnolovefic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Pizza Delivery Services, Dwight's Pizza AU, Fake AH Crew, First Dates, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jeremy is too independent for a Sugar Daddy, M/M, Poverty, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: Jeremy works the night shift delivery at Dwight's Pizza,The Dwight Stuff at the Dwight Time.He didn't expect to come face-to-face with the Vagabond on the job.He didn't expect to fall in love, either.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [armadil_Lo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armadil_Lo/gifts).



> Based on this [amazing art](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/post/157623405642/armadil-lauren-based-off-of-this-post) \- Happy Birthday, Lauren! I hope this lives up to expectations :D
> 
> Unbeta'd. Thanks to kayssna for cheerreading, though <3

Jeremy sighed in dismay at the ‘out of order’ sign on the elevator. A glance at the pizza box revealed he was going to the fifth floor. Stairs it was, then. As he walked, he passed the time by trying to guess how much he would be tipped. The apartment block was one of the better ones in the city, not that that meant much. Los Santos was a hellhole, and even that was putting it mildly. Delivering takeout didn’t usually get a lot of tips, the tippers either too poor themselves or just plain stingy in the suburbs.

He needed to work on his stamina, he decided, when he reached the fifth floor panting heavily.

Jeremy double-checked he had the right door before pressing the button. The doorbell rang with a deep, ominous gong sound. Jeremy stared at the spyhole, trying to get his breathing under control. It took a moment, and another, but finally the door opened.

A black skull mask greeted him. Jeremy paled, taking an involuntary step back.

“Ah, the pizza,” the Vagabond drawled, his deep voice echoing in the hall. Jeremy swallowed hard, hands shaking slightly. The Vagabond cocked his head. “Why, hello there.”

“H-hi?” Jeremy stuttered, clutching the pizza box to his chest. He was so, so dead.

“How much?” the Vagabond asked patiently, and Jeremy flinched.

“Uh, I, ah-” Jeremy glanced down at the box, blinking until the numbers swam back into place. “T-twenty-seven and n-ninety-four c-cents. Sir.”

The Vagabond nodded, trading two bills for the pizza box.

“Have a nice day,” he said politely, before shutting the door in Jeremy’s face. Not that Jeremy noticed, too busy staring at the two fifty dollar bills.

Matt gaped at him for a solid minute when Jeremy brought home nearly a hundred dollars in tips, without having to risk getting caught skimming by the sharp-eyed owner of Dwight’s Delivery services. The woman had been awfully suspicious lately, and Jeremy had carefully hidden his tips before coming in. They had a communal tip jar that he fed a couple dollars in reluctantly, just for show. Everyone knew better than to expect to see most of the group tips ever again.

The Vagabond’s generous tip paid off their bills from the last month. They’d been lagging behind a little, it was a relief to come even for once.

Between the three of them with currently four jobs and some, uh, extracurricular activities, they might even be able to save up some money. Maybe get a second bed or a new couch if they were frugal for a while. Or try to get out of their hellhole of an apartment - the ceiling started leaking recently, and their complaints fell on deaf ears. They didn’t dare make too much noise, either, with the three of them sharing a one bedroom flat.

That didn’t make him any less nervous as he stood before the same door again, with the same order. He gulped, rubbing his sweaty palms one after the other on his pants, juggling the pizza box. Taking a deep breath, he rang.

“Hello again!” Vagabond said cheerfully, and Jeremy handed over the pizza wordlessly. “About thirty dollars right? Here.”

He handed Jeremy a fifty dollar bill. Jeremy licked his lips. Did he expect change this time? Was it a test? The Vagabond was known for his unpredictability and murder sprees, and he kept looking at Jeremy expectantly.

“R-right,” Jeremy stammered, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Y-your change, s-sir?”

The Vagabond did a double-take, fortunately looking more surprised than offended.

“Oh! No, no, keep the change,” he said quickly, backing into his apartment hurriedly. “Nice to see you again, bye.”

The door fell shut, but Jeremy was too glad to still be alive than to wonder at the strange behaviour.

 

* * *

 

 _“Hi there! How’s your day been?”_  
  
_“G-good, thank you?”_  
  
_“Here, keep the change!”_  
 

* * *

  
_“Hello again. Same old?”_  
  
_“Same old. Here’s your usual, sir.”_  
  
_“Thanks.”_

* * *

 

_“Hi! how are you?”_

_“I’m great, thanks! How are you?”_

_“Well enough, I suppose. Have you heard about the new movie that just came out?”_

_“I- I don’t watch many movies, sorry.”_

_“Oh. Uh. You should make an exception for this one, though, it was really good.”_

_“Oh. Okay. Uh, thanks, I’ll look into it.”_

* * *

 

 _“Oh, I keep forgetting- what’s your name?”_  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“I keep calling you Pizza boy in my head, so… what’s your name?”_  
  
_“Oh! It’s… Jeremy.”_  
  
_“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”_  
_  
“You, too.”_

 

* * *

 

“Jeremy,” a deep, familiar voice called, and Jeremy froze, looking around wildly. He was on his way home from his day job at the Burger Shot down the street. He’d been dead on his feet for the last hour of his shift, and he was looking forward to collapsing in their only bed for two hours while Matt was out working, and Trevor was out _working_. Then it was off to Dwight’s Delivery for the night shift. Where he was kind of hoping to see the Vagabond because he tipped insanely well.

He did not expect to run into that black skull mask on his way home though.

“Uh, hi?” he said slowly, taking a couple steps closer to the mouth of the alley Vagabond was loitering in. He glanced down the alley, and then over his shoulder, but he couldn’t see any of the other Fakes. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for idiots,” Vagabond replied drily, waving him off. He eyed Jeremy up and down, but it no longer sent shivers down his spine. He’d gotten used to their small-talk. “You quit your job at Dwight’s?”

“Nah,” Jeremy said, shrugging with a self-depreciating smile. “I work morning shifts at Burger Shot, night shifts at Dwight’s, is all.”

He swore Vagabond’s eyebrows were raised. He couldn’t see them behind the mask, of course, but something in the way his eyes moved as he stared silently back at him… Jeremy shuffled awkwardly.

“So, uh,” he tried, the silence growing too uncomfortable not to break. “Was there… any particular reason you called me over?”

The Vagabond shrugged.

“I’m bored, and the idiots are keeping me waiting.”

Jeremy stared at him for a long moment, before he snorted.

“So, you what. Just wanted to chat? To pass time?” Jeremy shook his head, bemused. Vagabond scuffed his boot against the asphalt.

“Well,” he stalled, sounding almost… shy? “If you got a moment?”

No one would ever believe him if he told them, Jeremy thought dazedly, but the Vagabond had the most devastating puppy dog eyes that he’s ever seen. Ever. Something about those bright blue eyes… even the mask couldn’t detract from it. Much.

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy gave in, feeling surreal. His life was weird.

 

* * *

 

_“You know, you uh don’t have to tip me so much.”_

_“Why not? I have more than enough money.”_  
  
_“Just…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“...nevermind.”_

 

* * *

 

“Everybody on the ground, now!” A gunshot rang through the suddenly quiet room. “Down, all of you!”

It wasn’t the first time Jeremy was taken hostage. You didn’t work at a shop in Los Santos without getting robbed at least every other month. Jeremy got held up at work once, ending up making the robbers burgers to go along with the bag of cash. It might have saved his life, but he hadn’t really thought of it.

Jeremy always had a weird reaction to being held at gunpoint.

“Whoa there!” he blurted out, holding up his hands in surrender.

“I said down, asshole,” Mogar growled, pushing the gun to his chest. “Why aren’t you on the floor yet, dickhead?”

Jeremy eyed the assault rifle a little enviously. He’d have to ask Matt if they couldn’t save up for one, but considering their lack of funds… Mogar punched his shoulder, and Jeremy lifted his head to catch his gaze. Right. He wouldn’t be here, in this situation, if it weren’t for their money troubles. The gun had to wait.

“You listening to me, bitch?”

“Right, right, sorry,” Jeremy mumbled. His heart stopped for a beat as he realized that his chances of getting out of this alive were dwindling by the seconds. Mogar’s scowl darkened. “Don’t shoot me?”

“Mogar,” a familiar voice cut through the din. Someone had tripped the alarm, probably the jeweler hiding behind the showcase.

“What,” Mogar snapped, not taking his eyes off Jeremy.

“I got the crowd. Get the cash,” the Vagabond ordered, and finally Mogar looked away to glare at the other man.

“The fuck, dude,” he ground out, but Vagabond made a hand motion that cut him off.

“Just do it, for fuck’s sake,” he snapped, waving his gun over the people on the floor. Mogar grabbed Jeremy by the collar with a snarl, pushing him towards Vagabond. He stumbled, but the other man caught his arm and stabilized him.

“Fuck you,” he bit out, but stomped off to fill a bag full with jewels and cash. Vagabond slung his free arm around Jeremy’s neck, putting him into a chokehold as he tucked him close to his chest.

“Do as I say,” he hissed into his ear, and Jeremy nodded barely noticeable. The hold relaxed an inch. Jeremy let himself slump against the Vagabond, just a little, his heart beating staccato. That was a little too close, but he felt… safe with the other man. Certain enough that he wouldn’t kill Jeremy as long as he gave him no reason to.

Maybe he was just reading a little too much into their chats.

They were surprisingly efficient, in and out in under five minutes. It felt like an eternity to Jeremy, however, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Vagabond didn’t let go of him, so he stumbled out with them as they left, Vagabond firing a warning shot into the ceiling. Jeremy could hear sirens in the distance, and he wasn’t the only one. He felt Vagabond stiffen behind him.

“Let’s go,” he urged, dropping the arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and squeezing his shoulder.

Mogar glared at them, but Vagabond ignored him, motioning him forward. Mogar shot him a disgusted look over his shoulder, before stomping ahead, bag of loot fastened over his shoulder and assault rifle in his hands. Jeremy swallowed, turning to look at the other man.

“What are you doing here?” Vagabond questioned him, his fingers digging into Jeremy’s arm as he dragged him along. Jeremy winced.

“I was casing the place,” he answered rapidly. Matt said they weren’t at the point yet where they had to move on to Plan C, but he’d just been fired after getting caught pinching from the register. Trevor said to better be prepared, and Jeremy agreed. “I didn’t realize this was Fake territory, sorry.”

Vagabond hummed. “It’s not yet. We’re contesting. Better keep out of here for a while.”

“I will,” Jeremy promised quickly, a little out of breath. Finally, Vagabond let go of him.

“You good from here?” he asked gruffly, something like concern in his voice. Jeremy glanced around, relieved to recognize which backalley this was.

“Yeah, I know where to go from here,” he assured the other man, and Vagabond nodded sharply.

“Run along then.”

 

* * *

 

_“Next time someone takes you hostage, try the silently lying on the floor thing.”_

_“Yeah, you kinda saved my life there. Thanks.”_

_“Well, I couldn’t just stand by while you got yourself killed. Who’s gonna bring me pizza this late at night if you die?”_

 

* * *

 

“Your usual, Mr. Vagabond,” Jeremy announced snottily, presenting the pizza box with a dramatic flourish. Vagabond laughed, shaking his head fondly.

“Heh, thanks Jeremy,” he replied, then grew quiet. He eyed Jeremy thoughtfully, before nodding solemnly. “You know what? Just call me Ryan.”

The world slowed down for one eternal moment. Jeremy blinked, surprised, his heartbeat picking up the pace.

“Oh,” he said, dumbfounded. “I- Okay. Sure.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure if he imagined things, or if Vagab- _Ryan’s_ fingers lingered over his as he closed his open hand around the hundred dollar bill.

“Keep the cash,” he said quietly, and Jeremy gave him a crooked grin, ducking his head.

“Thanks.” A pause before he shyly looked up and added a little breathlessly, “Ryan.”

 

* * *

 

 _“-and then he said, ‘Okay but what if you flip_ two _coins-”_

_“No way!”_

_“Yes. He totally did.”_

_“Oh my God, I can’t believe it-”_

_“It’s_ science _.”_

_“Dude.”_

 

* * *

 

Jeremy let his feet carry him down the familiar floor. The elevator was finally working, but Jeremy had chosen the stairs out of habit, and, well. It kept him fit. So maybe he noticed Ryan’s eyes lingering on his arms, maybe he’d even flexed them accidentally-on-purpose once or twice. Couldn’t blame a guy for trying. Preoccupied as he was, he hadn’t watched where he’d been going, ringing the bell absently.

He only realized his mistakes when a hot guy in a tux opened the door, looking at him curiously.

“Oh! Uh, sorry sir, I must have gotten the wrong apartment number-”

Fancy Hot Guy chuckled bemusedly.

“Christ, no, Jeremy! It’s just me,” he said, leaning in the doorway and crossing his arms. Jeremy did a double-take, looking the guy over more closely.

“R-Ryan?” he stuttered, a flush creeping up the back of his neck. “Oh, wow. Um.”

Ryan grinned smugly, but Jeremy was a little distracted by checking out his legs in the well-fitting pants.

“Like what you see?” he purred, and Jeremy’s head snapped up. He stared at him wide-eyed, before blushing darkly.

“You clean up nice, dude,” he blurted out. Mortified, he shoved the pizza box into Ryan’s hands, before beating a hasty retreat. “Here you go, see ya, bye.”

“Jeremy, wait!” Ryan called after him, but Jeremy was already half-way down the stairs, taking two at a time.

It was only after he sat in the shabby old car that he realized he’d forgotten to take Ryan’s money. Cursing, he considered going back upstairs, but just the thought had his stomach all twisted up. Jeremy bit his lip. He could pay out of his pocket just this once. He ignored the sinking feeling of not getting the usually generous tip, even though he knew they needed it. It couldn’t hurt just the once, right?

 

* * *

 

The library was a quiet place. More importantly, it was warm.

Jeremy sighed, dropping his head in his arms. There were several books spread across the table, some actually relevant to his research and some to misdirect potential observers. Better safe than sorry, even if it made him feel a little too paranoid. He blinked, the warmth making him feel drowsy. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

The thing was, Jeremy had just been fired from Burger Shots, citing an incident with a customer that he was pretty sure was actually his co-worker’s fault, but the manager didn’t like Jeremy. Losing two sources of income had hit them hard, and they hadn’t been able to pay electricity and heat bills for a while now, so the company finally cut them off. Matt was also somewhere in here, on one of the computers doing little programming jobs.

And Jeremy was supposed to research their targets.

Honestly, he was just glad to be inside a warm building, their leaky flat freezing. They could barely sleep at night, having taken to dogpiling on their single bunk bed with all their threadbare blankets together. Needless to say, sleep was hard to come by, and it left Jeremy exhausted. The blueprints he’d been staring at had stopped making sense an hour ago, markers and letters swimming in front of his eyes.

“Jeremy?” a quiet voice startled him. Jeremy’s head jerked up, and he blinked profusely. “Hey there, buddy.”

He frowned at the man standing across the table from him in confusion. Dad jeans and a loose sweater, reading glasses perched on his nose and dark hair tied back he had something of a professor vibe. It wasn’t until he caught those piercing blue eyes that realization sank in.

“Oh, Ryan! Hi.” Jeremy blushed, remembering the last time he’d seen the other man. That had been… embarrassing.

“Taking a break from work, I take it?” Ryan asked, putting his own books down next to Jeremy’s and sitting down across from him.

“More like, work is taking a break from me,” Jeremy joked weakly, dragging his fingers through his hair. Christ, he hoped he didn’t look too unkempt. “Kinda lost my day job, so…”

“Oh,” Ryan trailed off awkwardly, giving him a closer look. “Sorry to hear that?”

Jeremy just shrugged one shoulder, staring down at the open books. He nudged one to cover the blueprints better.

“Shit happens,” he muttered, glancing up at Ryan from under his lashes. The other man seemed thoughtful. “And I still got the one at Dwight’s as Plan B.”

“What’s Plan C, then?” Ryan tried to lighten the mood, and Jeremy grinned. He made a show of looking left and right, before leaning in conspiratorially.

“Rob a bank, get rich,” Jeremy whispered. Ryan blinked, startled. Jeremy kept a straight face for a second longer, then broke into a shit-eating grin. Ryan leaned back, chuckling.

“If you need some pointers,” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Jeremy snorted, amused.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They settled into a companionable silence. Just being in Ryan’s presence gave Jeremy a boost in motivation, sleepiness pushed back down. He checked the map against his notes from the blueprints, crossing through less desirable or difficult targets. Every other minute, he’d glance up to see Ryan engrossed in his book. He squinted. Something about Fahrenheit? Jeremy bit his lip, wondering if he should ask about it. Sounded science-y.

They’d been silently working across from each other for over an hour when Jeremy’s stomach started growling. Jeremy blushed. They had to ration their food tightly for over a week now, and even then they were running low. Matt wanted to go dumpster diving tonight, stock up their stores with what supermarkets threw away. Jeremy thought he might try snatching the leftovers and wrong orders, if he could get them past his boss, which… was sadly unlikely. She kept watching him like a hawk, and he’d been unable to skim any bills when counting out the register.

His stomach rumbled discontentedly, and Jeremy pushed his chair back with a sigh. It was getting late anyway, the library would close soon. He looked up to catch Ryan staring at him with that thoughtful, considering look on his face again. Jeremy shuffled the books together awkwardly, ducking his head.

His stomach protested again, louder this time.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Ryan offered, tugging on the end of his ponytail. He closed his book with a snap.

“Oh, I couldn’t-” Jeremy replied, flustered. Was he- was he asking him-

“It’s not charity,” Ryan insisted, holding his hands up placatingly. “You paid for my pizza last time, remember? Let me repay you the favour, and we can call us even.”

“Oh,” Jeremy replied, deflating. He had thought… He should know better than to get his hopes up. “Okay. I guess.”

“Great,” Ryan smiled, standing up and gathering his books. “It’s a date!”

With that, he turned around to put the books onto the return cart, leaving Jeremy blinking after him.

“...wait. _What_.”

 

* * *

 

“So what were you reading, back there?” Jeremy asked curiously as they slid into the corner seat. He’d been half afraid Ryan would take him somewhere fancy, but he just pulled up at the closest Up-n-Atom, even though a Burger Shot was closer. Jeremy appreciated the consideration on Ryan’s part.

“Fahrenheit 451,” Ryan explained promptly, then ducked his head and stared at his folded hands on the table. “It’s a classic about people having to learn books by heart because the state is burning them all.”

“Huh,” Jeremy said blankly. There was a light blush dusting Ryan’s cheeks. Jeremy grinned, leaning forward teasingly. “I hadn’t pegged you as a nerd.”

“Theatre major,” Ryan offered with a shrug, glancing back up at him. There’s a wry twist to his lips. “The mask was a very deliberate choice. Deep meaning. Great metaphor. You know, personification of Death becoming a mercenary-”

“You’re adorable,” Jeremy blurted out, then chuckled self-consciously. The blush darkened on Ryan’s cheeks. It made Jeremy’s chest feel warm.

“Well,” Ryan rasped, then pointedly cleared his throat. The waitress came to take their orders, just in time to save him from having to respond.

Jeremy consciously picked something that wasn’t too expensive, just a medium burger that he might buy himself if he’d save up a little. Ryan frowned at him over the menu and then ordered fries and nachos for both of them. Jeremy swallowed his protest until the waitress had moved out of earshot.

“Look, you don’t have to buy me extra food,” he said, crossing his arms. Ryan eyed him warily.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” he started slowly, choosing his words with care. “Just… order more if you’re still hungry, okay? Money’s not an issue for me.”

“I don’t want charity,” Jeremy ground out, and Ryan sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I understand that. Believe me, I do. I’ve been independent before I made a reputation for myself, and it wasn’t always pretty. Still,” Ryan said, giving him a sad smile. “I don’t like to see you miserable. Just… just this once, okay?”

He agreed reluctantly, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Okay. Just this once.”

Jeremy traced the patterns of the wood with a finger, feverishly trying to come up with a new topic. An awkward pause settled between them, Ryan fidgeting with the menu card.

“So, what about you?” Ryan ventured, waggling his fingers in his direction. “I mean, what did you do before delivering takeout and such?”

“I used to be a gymnast.” Jeremy ducked his head. “Had a full scholarship ride to college and everything figured out, too. Then I fucked up my shoulder-” He rolled his left shoulder and grimaced. “-and well. That was that. Had no money to pay for college, so I got stuck with no-minimum wage jobs, trying to get by.”

Ryan mimicked his grimace. “That sucks.”

“It worked out so far.” Jeremy shrugged. “I live with two friends, and between us we usually manage.”

Ryan eyed him sharply, and Jeremy tensed, waiting for him to comment. Because obviously they were not getting by well right now, and Jeremy knew Ryan wasn’t stupid. He could read between the lines - spending all day at the library, joking about robbery, the state of his clothes - he must have put two and two together by now.

Just then, their food and drinks arrived, and luckily Ryan decided to change the topic.

Jeremy relaxed, pushing the worries over his situation far back, and allowed himself to enjoy the date.

Just this once.

 

* * *

 

“Rimmy Tim’s in position,” Jeremy whispered, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Treyco’s all set up, too,” Trevor added, humming under his breath.

“The Sledge is rea-”

“No,” Trevor and Jeremy chorused at the same time.

“Ah, guys, c’mon-”

“No, Ma- Axial, we talked about this,” Jeremy interrupted. He tapped his earpiece to irritate the hacker. “No changing names this late in the game.”

“How come _you_ get to be Rimmy Tim, then?” Matt challenged, sounding smug.

“Because, Axial, Lil J was a _little_ too on the nose,” Trevor replied drily. “Pun absolutely intended.”

“Says you, _Treyco_ ,” Matt pointed out with a snort, but he let it go.

“Alright, boys,” Trevor sing-songed. “Let’s _play_.”

They quickly got to work. Trevor knelt in front of the villa door, tongue peeking out of his mouth as he shifted the lockpicks. Jeremy stood with his back to him, tense and alert. Matt had already hacked into the security system, ready to take it down as soon as they had the doors open. He was hanging back in their escape vehicle.

 _Click_.

“Done,” Trevor murmured, holding the door shut until Matt gave the go ahead.

“Alarm’s down,” he said, his voice sounding tinny over the short range comms. “Remember, you’ve only got twenty minutes until it’s back online.”

Trevor slipped through the door while Matt was still talking, and Jeremy gave the gardens and streets one last furtive look before following him inside. The villa was old, but had since been renovated. Jeremy had managed to get his hands on the old blueprints from the 50s, and they’d planned based on that layout. It wasn’t too far off from what Jeremy could see in a quick lookover.

Trevor power-walked down the hallway, peeking into every room he passed before vanishing into the office. They suspected the safe was either in there, or upstairs in the bedroom.

So Jeremy went upstairs.

The master bedroom was enormous, and at least one wall had been knocked down since the house was first built. He quickly got to work, riffling through the commode drawers, bagging any jewelry and anything shiny or hopefully expensive as he went. Then he checked the walls for a safe. Not finding one he continued on to the bathroom, collected even more jewelry and some essentials (the less they had to buy the better) before heading downstairs for the living room.

“Ten minutes,” Matt warned them.

“Got the safe almost open. If you would quiet down, please,” Trevor snapped.

Jeremy took a moment to check the cabinets for the good china and silverware, taking only what wouldn’t easily break. Though the bottles of expensive alcohol were too tempting to ignore.

“Got it!” Trevor cheered, before whistling. “Ooooh, jackpot.”

“What is it?” Jeremy asked curiously, moving onto the kitchen. They’d been low on food lately, and while he was sure that rich people mostly kept stuff that expired early, they could use something to boost their stores until they could sell the loot. Besides, surely they must have cereal or canned food, too.

“Some very precious jewels and gold, from the looks of it. In the form of jewelry and a wristwatch, I mean. Axial, do we have use for their credit card info?”

“We absolutely do!” Matt perked up. “Bring it with you, and hurry up, guys, we’re almost out of time.”

There were several apples and bananas that went straight into the bag. Jeremy was considering how to package the meat without ruining it or the other things in his bag, when the room flashed blue and red. Blue. Red.

“Shit!” Matt cursed. “Where the hell did they- guys, you need to leave, now. Go out the back or a window, the police have the front door covered!”

“What? How!” Trevor yelped, but Jeremy cut him off.

“Doesn’t matter. Out. Now.”

“The alarm’s still down for another minute, I don’t know how they could have-”

The sound of furious typing accompanied Matt’s panicked voice.

Jeremy rushed towards the back door, hoping to sneak away in the dark of the garden. The door was locked, but the key stuck in the hole on the inside. He slipped outside, looking around. It was still dark in the backyard, the police must not have gotten around to surrounding them yet.

A soft thump had him whirl around, tense.

Trevor caught his eyes, sliding the window back shut behind him.

“Let’s go,” he whispered urgently, and Jeremy nodded.

“The front’s covered in police, they’re starting to come around the sides,” Matt warned them.

Jeremy bit his lip, surveying the area. He eyed the hedge.

“This way,” he muttered, tugging on Trevor’s sleeve. He threw the bag over first, then squatted down. “Step on my shoulders, I’ll help you over.”

Trevor didn’t protest. When Jeremy stood back up, he hauled himself and his own bag over, landing with a muffled thud.

“What about you, Rimmy,” he asked quietly.

“I’ll figure something out. Take the loot, regroup with Axial,” Jeremy ordered.

There was a long moment of silence. Jeremy snuck along the hedge, hoping for a hole or some bushes to hide in.

“That’s- Jeremy, you know that’s a dead end,” Matt rasped, forgetting their codenames.

“Don’t wait for me,” was his only reply.

Jeremy took out his comm and stepped on it, before stuffing the broken pieces deep into the hedge for good measure. There was no chance of getting out of this. He squared up his shoulders and started walking along the edge of the property with some small hope of finding an escape route after all. But, in the end…

Better him than the others.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy stared at his hands, folded tightly on his lap to stop the shaking. He’d been caught. He’d always known it was a possibility, had joked with Matt and Trevor about how inevitable it was, even. He hadn’t thought it’d leave him shaking. He’d been in here for three days already, was going to be transferred later that day.

He was so screwed.

There was no way Matt and Trevor were coming for him - they were a tight-knit group, childhood friends, but getting him out when he’d been caught red-handed? They didn’t stand a chance in hell, no matter how good Matt had gotten at hacking or how quick Trevor’s fingers were. They could barely afford rent, much less bail. Or the suspicion, considering they got away with their ill-gotten gains.

So. He was going to prison. He’d have to come to terms with that, and the sooner the better.

There were four other dudes and two ladies in the holding cell with him, all taller than Jeremy. He squeezed his hands tighter together, glancing from under his lashes as he tried to take them in. He’d been bulking up lately, since he was the main muscle of their small crew, but he wasn’t sure if he could take any of them. Not with how out of sorts he felt. Luckily everyone was keeping to themsel-

 _Boom_. Jeremy jumped a foot in the air, his ears ringing. The world shook. _Boom._

And then the back wall caved in, debris flying every which way. They all backed away from the hole, and Jeremy followed suit, squinting against the light and dusk. There was shouting somewhere, more distant explosions were detonating. Then the alarms went off.

Two silhouettes slowly stepped through the settling dust.

“‘Sup, bitches,” Mogar said- _the_ Mogar, the Fakes’ explosives expert. He was carrying a minigun, fortunately pointed at the floor for now. And next to him a blond, lanky man in skinny jeans and golden sunglasses. Jeremy’s heart started beating faster.

“Gentlemen. Gentleladies,” the Golden Boy spoke up, clapping his hands once as if to get their attention. Not like they weren’t all already staring at him. “You’re all free to go. Except for-” He unerringly pointed toward Jeremy, and Jeremy’s heart sunk. “Except for him.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, giving the two Fakes a wide berth as they streamed outside. Jeremy stood frozen in his spot, watching them wide-eyed. The Golden Boy pushed his hands into his pockets and eyed him over the rim of his glasses.

“Jeremy, is it?” he asked, and Jeremy nodded warily. The Golden Boy smirked. “Alrighty! Follow us, then.”

Jeremy stepped towards them cautiously, and when he came up beside them, the blond slung an arm across his shoulders, drawing a golden SMG with his other. He dragged Jeremy through the hole, Mogar staying behind them, walking backwards to cover their retreat. The streets were in chaos, screaming civilians running like headless chickens, police trying to create a perimeter while taking potshots at the other Fakes. Jeremy glimpsed the infamous black skull mask across the street, before the Golden Boy shoved him into the backseat of a car.

“The package is secure, copy,” the driver said briskly, as Mogar smacked the door shut, causing Jeremy to flinch. “I’m coming to pick you up, guys.”

There was a moment of tense silence. A burst of unintelligible comm chatter, followed by the motor revving. The Golden Boy and Mogar had disappeared down the back-alley. Jeremy craned his neck, but he couldn’t see them anymore.

“I’ll need a distraction, lads,” the driver spoke up tersely, the wheels squealing before the car jumped forward at high speed. Then the red-head turned to look at Jeremy through the rearview mirror. “Please get down.”

Jeremy ducked into the foot room, laying his head on top of the seat to get out of the line of fire. Not a second too soon because the next moment the glass spider-webbed from a stray bullet. Bullet-proof glass, Jeremy thought hysterically. He was jostled hard when the red-head suddenly slammed on the brakes. Two doors banged open. The sound of rapid-fire guns. Two men jumped into the car. The doors banged back shut.

“Go, go, go!” the man in front yelled, and the driver stepped on the gas.

Jeremy kept low for a while, watching as the Vagabond- _Ryan_ rolled down the window and started shooting at their pursuers. It was a bit of a relief to be in the same car as him. The man up front in the passenger seat was taking pot-shots out his window, too, talking a mile a minute with someone on the other side of the comms. Jeremy crawled up onto the backseat, peeking through the back window to find three cop cars on their tail.

“Alright, assholes, cut the banter for a second and gimme a fucking sitrep,” the man growled, sticking his head out. One of the tires popped, the police car slithering long enough for Ryan to put enough bullets into the windshield to shatter it. “Take that, motherfucking pigs!”

They took a couple sharp turns, and Jeremy ducked his head as the cops returned fire. The Fakes laughed and bantered and cackled, an odd counterpoint to the rapid-fire sound of bullets. For a few moments, it almost seemed like they would catch up, arrest the Fakes once and for all-

Then one car fell behind, then another. Finally, it was only two officers on bikes, not daring to get close with the Vagabond laying down cover fire.

“Well then,” the man in the passenger seat spoke up, and Jeremy sat up and turned around, exhaling shakily. “You must be Jeremy. You’re shorter than I expected.”

“Am I in trouble?” Jeremy asked weakly, eyes flicking from where Ryan leaned out of the window to shoot behind them, to the red-head driving, and then onto the rearview mirror for a glance at the man in the tuxedo. Ramsey. It had to be Ramsey, holy shit.

“You _were_ in trouble,” the red-head informed him calmly, jerking the wheel around to dodge incoming traffic.

Ramsey caught his eyes through the mirror, nodding to him. Jeremy bit his lower lip uncertainly. The drooping eyelids didn’t take away from the sharpness of his blue gaze, and Jeremy was uncomfortably aware that this was the most dangerous man in all of Los Santos.

“We just got you out of it,” he pointed out nonchalantly, observing Jeremy lazily. Jeremy’s stomach twisted at the reminder that he was now in their debt.

Ryan dropped back into his seat, dropping the empty mag and reloading with sure movements. His head turned a little in Jeremy’s direction, though he couldn’t quite tell if he was looking at him due to the mask. He inched closer to him anyway. Ryan rested the assault rifle in his lap, then laid a hand on Jeremy’s knee and squeezed reassuringly.

Jeremy gave him a weak smile.

When they arrived at the safehouse, Jeremy made it a point to stick close to Ryan. The Vagabond might have the scariest reputation out of all the Fakes, but Jeremy _knew_ Ryan. He trusted Ryan. The rest of them seemed much more dangerous, compared to that. He watched them cautiously as they went about the house, securing the perimeter or searching the fridge and kitchen cabinets in turn. The Golden Boy pulled out an old-fashioned English kettle and put it on the stove. Ryan pulled off his mask and dropped it on the table, taking a seat. Jeremy quietly dropped into the chair next to him.

The silence that followed was awkward, as they all settled around the kitchen table.

“So,” the Golden Boy piped up, fingers wrapped around a mug full of hot, steaming tea. “Now that we have him, what do we do with him?”

“Don’t be a prick,” Mogar growled, whacking him up the head.

“I, uh, I would like to know that, too,” Jeremy chimed in, subconsciously reaching for Ryan. The other man intertwined their hands and squeezed reassuringly. “I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but why…?”

“Curiosity, mostly,” Ramsey drawled, propping his chin on his steepled fingers as he watched them in amusement. “Personally, I just wanted to know who managed to capture the notorious Vagabond’s heart.”

Jeremy shot Ryan a glance at that. His face was mostly covered in black and white paint, but the tips of his ears turned a very telling red.

“So, uh, that’s it?” Jeremy asked in disbelief, turning to look at the infamous Fakes. “What’s gonna happen next? Or am I free to go?”

“There’s some conditions, of course,” the driver broke in smoothly, “You don’t talk about anything you might overhear during your stay here, or tell anyone the location of this safehouse.”

“Your prints and picture have also been added to the LSPD database, so you might want to lay low for a while,” Ramsey suggested.

“I won’t, and I know someone who can take care of that,” Jeremy replied. Then he grimaced. “I suppose I’m fired after all that, anyway, so it’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

“You are,” Ryan confirmed quietly. “Your replacement is what clued me in, that something was wrong.” Then he added hesitantly, “You can stay at my place if you want?”

Jeremy bit his lip, looking up at Ryan from under his lashes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he assured him, squeezing his hand. Jeremy smiled shyly.

“Can I have a phone? I should call my roommates, they must be worried sick by now.”

“They know what happened?” Ramsey asked nonchalantly, but his eyes were sharp. Jeremy gave him a crooked grin.

“We pulled the heist together. They barely made it out, I was buying them time,” he explained, shrugging half-heartedly. Ramsey hummed contemplatively, but nodded. The driver sighed, standing up.

“I’ll get you a burner phone.”

They scattered, after that, leaving Jeremy alone with Ryan. The red-head - _call me Jack_ \- returned with an old flip phone, and after a quick call to Matt to let them know what happened, he looked up at Ryan hopefully.

“So…”

Ryan smiled. “Why don’t we go upstairs for some privacy?”

“Sure,” Jeremy said, swallowing his nerves, “Sounds good.”

They passed by the living room on the way to the stairs, and the lads made no effort to disguise their staring as they watched them intently. Jeremy straightened his shoulders and clutched Ryan’s hand a little tighter. There were several guest rooms on the second floor, and Ryan seemed to pick one at random. There wasn’t much beside a bed and some basic furniture, so Jeremy sat down on the bed and clasped his hands between his knees.

After a long second, Ryan settled down beside him.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his hand hovering over Jeremy’s back but not quite touching. Jeremy shrugged, leaning into the offered hug.

“A couple bruises here and there,” he replied, lifting his hands to show Ryan his wrists. They’d pulled the handcuffs a little tight. “Mostly just shaken.”

Ryan took his hands gently, rubbing a thumb over the red welts. Jeremy winced.

“We’ve got some cream in the bath that should help,” he suggested, shifting the hand into his lap and rubbing circles on his palm instead. “Jeremy, I-”

He seemed at a loss for words. Jeremy leaned his head on his shoulder, the gentle tracing of his fingers and palm doing more for him than he wanted to admit.

“I’m fine,” he promised, and Ryan stopped his ministrations, tangling their fingers instead and squeezing.

“I was worried,” he admitted lowly, ducking his head. “I didn’t realize things had gotten bad enough for you to move onto Plan C.”

“Rob a bank and get rich,” Jeremy mused, a smile tugging on his lips. He’d forgotten he told Ryan that. “Look, I like you, Ryan-” He blushed, turning his face to hide his burning cheek against Ryan’s shoulder. “But I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. I’m very independant.”

“I noticed,” Ryan teased gently, bumping their knees together. “Just… call me for back up next time, okay? I can give you a safety net until you’re a little more experienced.”

Jeremy froze, then leaned back and looked up at Ryan properly. Ryan turned so they sat face-to-face, Jeremy’s hand still in his lap.

“You’re a Fake, though,” Jeremy murmured, reluctantly letting go of Ryan’s hand. Ryan didn’t stop him. “How would that look, to the other gangs?”

“I didn’t think of that,” Ryan admitted, leaning forward and resting a hand on his leg earnestly. “Jeremy, I just- I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“People get hurt every day, Ryan,” Jeremy whispered, caught by the bright blue eyes. “It’s a hazard of living in this city.”

Ryan scowled. “Fuck that. I’ll talk with Geoff, we’ll figure something out. Get you special permission to heist within crew territory - he’ll want a part of the cut, but he’ll probably offer you supplies and protective gear in turn.” His voice grew faster, more eager. “It would be a lot safer. Just… just think about it, okay?”

“Ryan...” Jeremy trailed off, breath hitching in his throat. There was something wild, something desperate in those blue eyes. He reached out and squeezed Ryan’s knee. “I’ll ask my friends what they think. If… if you think Ramsey would agree to that.”

“I do,” Ryan answered immediately, and Jeremy smiled. His hand drifted up to his thigh.

“Okay,” he agreed.

There was a low heat building in his stomach. Jeremy could swear he heard the tension between them sizzle. Biting his lip, he sat up on his knees, shuffling closer. Ryan’s hand drifted up to his hip, steadying him, while Jeremy dropped his hands on Ryan’s shoulders. He swallowed, suddenly nervous. Ryan’s free hand settled on his nape, fingers brushing along his neck and into his hair. He let himself be pulled closer, until their breaths mingled, mouths barely an inch apart.

“You can back out now,” Ryan warned, offered, reassured. Jeremy blinked. “Just… just tell me and I will stop.”

“I think,” Jeremy said, licking his lips, “I think we’re on the same page here.”

With that, he bridged the gap separating them. Ryan’s lips felt soft under his, as he brushed their mouths together hesitantly. When Ryan reacted by pressing closer, Jeremy gained more confidence, moving his lips against Ryan’s. His fingers dug into Ryan’s shoulders, and Ryan’s arm wrapped around his waist to pull him properly into the other man’s lap.

The kiss turned from soft and careful into passionate and demanding.

Jeremy opened his mouth, inviting Ryan to explore with his tongue. One of his hands slipped up Ryan’s neck and into his hair, tugging the tie off so he could bury his fingers into the dark locks. In turn, Ryan scratched his nails over Jeremy’s scalp, his tongue coaxing Jeremy’s into his own mouth. Jeremy squirmed in Ryan’s lap, causing the older man to gasp and thrust up helplessly.

“Fuck,” Jeremy murmured against Ryan’s lips, breathing heavily. Ryan laughed, a deep, earthy chuckle that vibrated through Jeremy’s chest.

“Maybe later,” he teased, and Jeremy felt his face heat up.

Ryan brushed his hair out of his forehead, and the arm around his waist tightened. Jeremy smiled, feeling silly and hot and awkward, but safe nonetheless.

“Wanna try that again?” he asked, red high on his cheeks, and Ryan grinned.

“Hell yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I forgot to work in Dwight puns. That's what you get for rushing 7k in 4 days.
> 
> If you liked it, please leave me a comment or send me an ask on [my tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/ask/)?


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